Detention
by imfrozentrash
Summary: Stemming from my Helsa One-Shot: "Proposal Disaster," Elsa is flashed back to her days as a senior high school student. Honor role and potential valedictorian, what happens when she ends up in detention and bonds with one of her classmates from Calculus? Helsa One-Shot Modern AU.


Modern AU. Family.

* * *

It was just any other day of the week, really. It was Tuesday, probably Wednesday. But nonetheless, I was glued to my textbook like usual. Calculus was my favorite subject in high school. I definitely grew an interest in any math class I took while your aunt loved literature. The school day already started; it was around 8 in the morning when he walked in.

He always made an entrance when he walked in the room. I never talked to him because I never gave him the time of day. If you asked me, he looked like he was trying too hard; dressed in his leather jacket, white v-neck, dark blue jeans, and his motorcycle helmet held snug under his arm. His backpack, if you even called it that, only had one spiral notebook for all of his classes and an occasional pencil. But only until he had to ask someone else for one just to never give it back to them.

"Mr. Westergaard," our teacher sighed, taking off her glasses. "How is it that you're tardy? Again…" But he just shrugged his shoulders and went to the back of the class where he usually sat. "Fine, if you have nothing to say, you can think about it at detention,"

I just continued my classwork for that day. It wouldn't be the first time he got called out like that in the middle of class. So, as sad as it would sound, it was just like any other day during Calculus.

I was in the hallway after lunch when your aunt came running up to me. Don't tell her this, but I kind of didn't want to talk to her that day because I had a huge exam to get to. But now that I think about it, if it weren't for her, I don't think we would have ever met. Huh…

Anyways, long story short, she was just telling me about your Uncle Kristoff. She talked for so long, it made us both late for class. Now, my history teacher was very strict on being on time. If you didn't sit in your seat when the bell rang, you were marked tardy. If you weren't in the classroom, you were marked _absent_ and he didn't allow anyone in until the bell rang for the next class.

Now, I was in the run for valedictorian and I knew that this exam was probably one of the most important ones to take, aside from the midterm and final. But, when I arrived at the classroom, the door was already closed. I never knew this because I was always on time. But apparently, he posts a sign on the door saying, "If you're tardy and try to knock, I'll fail you for the entire semester" or something along those lines. So, there I was almost on verge of tears, not knowing what to do until he showed up out of nowhere.

"Oh, don't cry about it. It's nothing to cry over anyways," I turned around and he's up against the lockers on his phone.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, feeling irritated. "Haven't you been tardy enough?"

"What, this is my class too," he explained, shoving his phone in his pocket. "It's alright, you wouldn't be the first one to not notice me when I'm in the room," I'm taken back by his remark when I didn't say anything back. It was confusing to me because based on what happened in Calculus, seemed like he catches _everyone's_ attention.

"Hey, that's not-"

"Save it," I walked backward until my back hit the wall and he looked over me. I held my ground as heat crept up my face. "I'd _love_ to hear all about it after school,"

"What are you talking about?" But all he did was move back, already walking down the hall. "Hey, come back here!"

"Room 416. Don't be late this time or you'll really hear it from the Principal," he winked at me from behind his sunglasses and disappeared down the hallway. I didn't know what he meant by that. But when my teacher gave me detention after school for missing the exam, I wasn't looking forward to seeing him again.

And there he was, feet propped up on the desk in front of him while on his phone. I looked around and didn't find any advisor watching over him.

"Hey," he looked up from his phone and smiled almost genuinely. I sighed and took a seat as far away from him as much as possible. But he just jumped in the seat next to me.

"Do you mind? I plan on trying to get some work done,"

"Hey, we have two hours. Might as well make the most of our time, am I right?" He winked at me. I rolled my eyes and just opened up my unfinished Calculus homework. "You're still working on that thing?"

"What and you're already finished? Do you even know how to do it?"

"Hey, I'm just lazy. It doesn't mean that I'm dumb," he looked over at my worksheet and snatched it from my desk.

"Hey!"

"You've got number seven wrong," he tossed it back, it almost falling off my desk.

"What do you know?" I snickered back. But I took a look and saw that I did do the problem wrong. I've been staring at the equation for a good fifteen minutes until he moved his desk close - a little too close, actually - and explained my mistake. Right when I thought I knew all the answers, he made me realize what I did wrong.

Fifteen minutes turned into an hour and we were just casually talking with each other. That same morning, I didn't want anything to do with him. But, after getting to know him a little more, I realized that I misjudged him. We had a little over half an hour left of our detention when an advisor came in.

"Oh good, you two decided to stay after all," the advisor mumbled out loud. I tried to hold my laugh when I heard him chuckle behind me. "After this, you're free to go home, Elsa,"

"What? What about me?"

"Oh, we've got another meeting after this, Mr. Westergaard. Your father is on his way and you'll be sure to meet with him in the Principal's office," and with that, he left us alone again.

"Oh, tough luck Hans," I sympathized lightly, packing up my things early. But I looked over and saw him shift from his usual playfulness to a strong surge of nervousness. "Hans? Are you alright?" But he just sat up from his desk and started pacing around the room. "Hans?"

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, nervously stroking the back of his neck. His breathing started to get louder until I could clearly see his shirt get damp. I got up and tried to calm him down.

"Hans, it's okay. It's just your father," I gently reassured, trying to grab his hand.

"Don't touch me!" He snatched it away so quickly, I felt a sharp pain in my palm. I pulled back, feeling worried. I just watched hopelessly as his pacing got faster and he slid down the wall. I almost broke down when I heard soft cries coming from him as he folded himself in his lap. I didn't care that he was distant, so I persisted. I took a seat next to him and gently placed my hand on his shoulder. To my surprise, he didn't shrink back to my touch.

Instead, he forcefully pulled me into a tight embrace. It caught me off guard so much that I instinctively tried to pull back. But I stopped fighting back when I heard him cry on my shoulder and his grip got tighter. So, we just sat there in the middle of the classroom and I allowed him to cry.

"That was the day I first learned he had anxiety. And the first day we met. Who knew, right?"

"So does he always act like that?"

"Not always, but I understood that he didn't want to show anyone. He was 'too cool for school' to be honest with himself," I chuckled as I showed Thomas the air quotes. "But after about half a year or so, I was able to encourage him to be his true self. I also learned that he's able to calm down without his inhaler when I'm with him. It makes me feel a little special whenever he tells me that,"

"So you both met in detention?"

"That does not mean we're allowing you to get yourself in trouble, young man," I turn around and see Hans standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. I chuckle and smile up at him as he walks in.

"That's right, listen to your father. But I know that our boy is better than that," I assure Hans, running my fingers through our son's hair. Thomas happily snuggles in his bed by my motherly touch.

"Oh, and by the way, your mother was the only one who noticed me every day when I walked in late every morning. She just assumed everyone else saw me too,"

"Really?" Thomas laughs. I smack Hans' arm as I blush in embarrassment.

"Noticed it ever time," he sits next to me and hugs my waist.

 _I never knew that._ I smile to myself.

"Goodnight son," Hans whispers, handing him his stuffed horse. Thomas hugs it close and shuts his eyes.

"Goodnight," he says and I kiss him on his forehead. Hans and I walk out of his room, leaving the door slightly open. We walk down the hall to our shared master bedroom.

"Did you really have to tell him about my days in high school?" Hans sighs in embarrassment as he gets into bed.

"Of course. What else would I talk about it?"

"Oh anything else but that, Elsa. Looking back, I was a real dumbass. I didn't know what the hell I was doing," I lean over and kiss his neck playfully as I intertwine my fingers with his.

"Well, what about his grandparents?" Silence. "Or… maybe about his uncles?" More silence. "Can I, or at least - when can you tell him _that_ story?" I feel disappointed again when he pushes my hand and turns away from me.

"He doesn't need to know about it,"

* * *

Hey, everyone! Sorry for the delay again... I'm reaching the end of my semester and although it's Thanksgiving Break, I still have shit to do. I really try to write these as fast as I can so you all aren't left hanging for a while. But at the same time, I still want to have my best work for you guys.

I **_really_** appreciated the feedback you guys gave in the last fanfiction! Please keep the requests coming, it helps SO MUCH with writer's block. I hope I write these to your satisfaction. If not, then read someone and somewhere else. It's as simple as that. (:

I hope you enjoyed!


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